Getting the pieces together
by AAB
Summary: Mac has trouble to getting her pieces together and Harm's grandmother comes to the rescue


_Disclaimer: Not mine, Bellisario's_

**Getting the pieces together  
**_Set in the fall after' JAGathon'_

_Spoiler: __Mac__: Every time I think I've put the pieces of my life back together somebody comes along and jumbles them back up. (Yeah, Baby)_

_16.00 November 9__th  
__Mac's apartment  
_"Damn!" With an angry glare Mac threw the pieces of material down on the table.  
Her co-worker/friend looked up from his comfortable position on the couch. "Not going like you want?" he asked innocently.  
"No," was the irritated retort. "I don't understand how women can do that. This is worse than a jigsaw."  
Harm put down the book he was reading, rose to his feet and joined her at the table.  
"What is it supposed to be?" he wanted to know, looking down on the scraps of material.  
"It is a quilt. A pattern called bear-paw," Mac informed him. "It's for the next JAG-fundraising event. All the women are supposed to make a quilted item. Harriet talked me into it." She shook her head, not believing she had herself allowed to be a part of it  
Harm had to stifle a chuckle. Mac and needles and threat were definitely no friends.  
"You should talk to my grandma Sarah," he suddenly came up with an idea. "She has been quilting almost her whole life. She still has the first quilt she made for her doll when she was only six year old. I bet she will be happy to help you."  
"There's only one little detail you forgot," Mac countered sarcastically. "We are in Washington and your Grams lives in Pennsylvania."  
Harm shrugged. It didn't seem such a problem to him. Mac threw him a suspicious look.  
"What?"  
"Well, it is Veteran's Day next Friday and we have a long weekend. We can take Sarah on Friday, fly up there and return on Sunday. That will give Grams and you plenty of time to finish that bear tail."  
"Bear paw," Mac corrected him a bit absentminded. Going to Belleville, Pennsylvania, only to make a small quilt, seemed to bit over the top but she would love to spend the weekend with Harm. They did a good job in regaining their friendship after the JAGathon, but now it seemed like they reached a plateau. Maybe a weekend together would help them take the next step.  
In the mean time Harm waited with growing impatience for her to make up her mind. To his relief she nodded slowly. "Sounds like a plan.  
Harm suppressed the temptation to make a little happy dance; in stead he turned to the phone. He hit his Grams' number, put the phone on speaker and moments later he was happily chatting with the elderly lady. As expected his grandmother was looking forward to seeing her grandson very much, and even more delighted Mac was coming, too. She would be more than happy to help Mac out.  
In the meantime Mac was more relieved than she wanted to show Harm. After all, she was a Marine and Marines were supposed to tackle the world, although not with the help of an 80-years old lady. However nice that lady might be. She put the pieces of material in a bag and went on showing Harm the research she had done on quilting. Especially the many different old patterns she had found and the funny names they had like 'cat in the cradle' and 'Jacob's ladder'. To his own surprise Harm found it very intriguing.

_Veteran's Day  
_So that Friday morning Harm, Mac and the bag of material flew to Belleville. They were met by a beaming Sarah Rabb who took them both in a bear hug and whisked them into her car.  
At the farm a lunch was waiting for them. Mac happily tucked in a sandwich with ham salad while Harm munched his cheddar sandwich and Grams asked them about their plans.  
"Well, Mac is here to benefit from you quilting skills," Harm told her. "And I agreed with John B..." he referred to a childhood friend, "to come over to his shed and do some woodwork." Both the women looked at him. "You are supposed to make a quilt, we men are asked to make a wooden item, a toy or something like that," Harm explained.  
After lunch Harm took the car and drove off and Grams brought Mac into her sewing room and asked her to show the pattern she was working on. They chatted animatedly while Grams showed Mac how to first pin and then sew the pieces together. They were surprised how fast the time went and at teatime they were very content with the progress. Grams prepared a tray with tea and cookies and produced a photo album to show Mac some pictures of a young Harm. Mac loved it, and couldn't get enough of the accompanying stories.  
In the meantime Harm and John B. discusses the design of a birdhouse and a small dollhouse. They too were glad to have some time to catch up.  
During dinner they shared their experiences. Mac finished the top of her quilt and would learn the refined art of pitting the next day. Harm made the parts for two birdhouses and part of a dollhouse. For him it would be finishing the dollhouse and sandpapering all the pieces. He had decided to assemble them back in Washington, the pieces easier to transport in the plane than the finished works. After dinner Grams suggested a game of scrabble and they enjoyed a quiet evening together, with Mac three times winner.

The next day Harm and Mac went to the nearby village to attend to the shopping list Grams had given them. For Harm it provided the opportunity to show Mac where he spent his holidays as a kid. Then Grams and Mac disappeared into the sewing room again while Harm drove over to John's shed once more and worked on his part of the deal.  
Back home at five he found Mac relaxing on the porch, while the sound of pots and cutlery indicated Grams exercised her second hobby: cooking. Harm joined Mac on the swing and asked her about the quilt. She was proud to tell him it was finished and only needed to be made into a pillow cover the next day. Subconsciously she rubbed her fingertips. Despite Grams making her wear a thimble, she had managed to prick her fingertips many times and they were raw and sore. Without thinking Harm cradled her hand in his and lifted it to press a soft kiss at the tender skin.  
When he realised what he was doing he blushed fervently. Mac sat motionless, not knowing what to do or say. Luckily, before the silence became too awkward, Grams called for dinner. Both Harm and Mac were very quiet during dinner and Grams wondered what had happened. She would hate seeing things going bad between her grandson and the woman she knew he loved very much and at who she was growing very fond of.

In the evening Grams started to tell them about the quilt group she was an enthusiastic member of. Sometimes they made quilts for charity but they also assembled quilts for special occasions. Most of the women had made wedding quilts for their children and now were making them for their grandchildren. Grams showed them some pictures of magnificent double wedding ring patterns. Then she took a deep breath and, looking at Harm, came to the point. "Next time it's my turn to choose a pattern. Since you don't seem to make hast to marry, I want make you a quilt with patterns fitting to your live. Like flying geese or birds in the air to represent your love of flying."  
"Like Mac choosing the bear paw for she a strong woman," Harm stated.  
"Yes," Grams nodded.  
So after dinner the women busied themselves with the dishes and Harm was sat at the table to flip through the pattern books. There were so many, which ones should he choose? Which patterns represented him the best? A flying pattern was evident but next to that?  
One of the first patterns he came across was a 'friendship star'. That one definitely was going in, celebrating his friendship with Mac, Keeter, Sturgis and Bud and Harriet. Turning to the next pages there was a pattern called 'ribbons'. With a smile he remembered his promotion and heard the Admiral say "I leave the colonel the honours" He still could feel Mac's kiss, lingering just a bit but not extending the time military rules set for it.  
'Foot bridge', that page was turned over as quick as he could. He didn't need to be reminded at bridges, especially not a certain bridge in Sidney. That was still a raw spot in his heart. The way to the altar was also a pattern he would never want in his quilt.  
His eye fell on the cat in the cradle pattern Mac showed him before. Well, no cat but … suddenly he was back in time once more, standing in front of the office on a crispy autumn day and heard himself say 'Tell you what. Five years from this moment if neither us are in a relationship, we go have ourselves a kid'. He shook his head to chase away the image.  
Again he forced himself to the task at hand. From the corner of his eye he saw Mac take up her quilt to admire it once again. Yeah, the chosen pattern fitted her; she was really a strong woman. What more patterns would she like?  
He opened another book, dedicated entirely to the 'lone star'. It had some magnificent pictures in it and Harm thought it could well be the centrepiece of his quilt. The star reminded him of the pole star he had seen so many times from out of his cockpit or standing on the vulture's row. The pole star, beaming, unique, every sailor's compass. His eyes shifted once again to the woman at the other end of the room, now happily chatting with his grandmother. She was his pole star, beaming, unique, his moral compass.  
The patterns began to swim before his eyes. Abruptly he stood up, the book falling to the ground, and left the room, the door slamming behind him.  
Grams and Mac looked at each other bewildered. What was going on? After some moments Grams gave Mac an encouraging nod "Go and find him, child." And when Mac hesitated "these old eyes have seen a thing or two. He needs you. Go!"  
She found him on the porch, staring into the darkness. She fought the urge to walk over to him, wrap her arms around him and rest her head against his back. In stead she softly said his name "Harm?"  
He didn't react but by the tensing of his shoulders she could see he had heard her. She patiently waited till finally he began to speak.  
"When I was trying to find fitting patterns I just couldn't do it. I couldn't see the pattern of my live." He turned towards her. "Or better, I could see it too well. It wasn't just _my_ pattern. He took a deep breath "It's frightening when you realize how much another person means to you. How every the pattern you chose is connected with her. How much she is a part of your live, of your thinking, your hope, your whole being. That her presence or absence makes of breaks your life.  
The look on his face took Mac's breath away. "Me?" she whispered.  
He nodded. "Yes. I love you, Sarah. I'm in love with you. So much." He let out a wry chuckle. "Never mind, I know I blew my changes with you. I screwed up too many times. I won't bother you with my feelings again. I know we agreed to be friends again. I just … I just can't bear not to have you in my life, one way or another."  
He turned his back on her once more, not trusting himself to stay and look at her.  
Mac took a deep breath while his words sank in. Then she slowly moved forwards until she was able to do what she had wanted to do only moments earlier: to wrap her arms around him and rest her head against his back. He stiffened at her touch.  
"Don't," he said, his voice broken. "If I touch you now I will never be able to let you go again."  
"You don't have to," she whispered. "I want you to hold me, forever."  
He turned around with tantalizing slow pace. His eyes were so sad it almost broke her heart.  
"Say that again?"  
"You won't ever have to let me go. I love you, too."  
He shook his head, her words not able to penetrate his mind.  
She gave him a tender smile "I love you, Harm."  
When he still not reacted Mac stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. That did it. With a moan he wrapped his arms around her, his grip so tight she could hardly breathe. Not that she cared.

_A few weeks later_  
It was Monday morning, two weeks before Christmas and Mac walked into the JAG building. On her left ring finger was an unusual weight. Sooner than she had expected, Harm had proposed the previous night. She couldn't stop smiling.  
She thought about the joy of his grandmother. The old lady had been over the moon, even shed a few happy tears when they told her what patterns they had chosen for the quilt: a double wedding ring around a lone star centre piece, bordered with rims of flying geese, alternated with blocks of bear paw, the corner blocks a friendship star, all in shades of crème, marine-green and navy-blue.  
At the office Harriet was busy gathering the contributions for the JAG fundraising. She already had received and admired the two birdhouses and the dollhouse Harm had produced and now it was Mac's turn to turn in the fruits of her labour. When she removed it from the bag Harriet was stunned, as a beautiful quilted pillowcase was presented to her.  
When Mac pulled back her hand, a ray of sunlight made the ring on her left hand flash. Harriet let out a scream loud enough to be heard throughout the building.  
"How? When?"  
Harm still stood next to her and Mac intertwined her fingers with his. "Finally all the pieces came together."

The end

_I came up with the story when I struggled getting a quilt pattern right, the same bear paw pattern Mac is struggling with. _


End file.
